


Library Shenanigans

by the_overlord



Series: Something Comes From Nothing [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek being intimidated by an old woman, Library, M/M, is my favourite, just the boys hanging out, kind of a not fic, pre slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_overlord/pseuds/the_overlord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Aww come on Derek, you could definitely take her.’</p>
<p>Derek scowled, jaw clenching beneath his skin.</p>
<p>‘She’s an eighty year old woman Stiles, you could take her.’</p>
<p>---<br/>Stiles is hanging out in the library when Derek drops by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Library Shenanigans

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to post this for ages, I wrote this for my friend Bella a while ago and never got round to uploading it. So here it is. There's not much plot but I hope it makes you smile.

Stiles flung his legs out, laughing as he propelled himself away from the bookshelf he’d been perusing, and towards the desk he had commandeered in the corner of the room. His chair wobbled as he sailed across the aisle, and he flung his arms out to steady himself, narrowly avoiding hitting a man who was wandering past him. The man gave him a disgusted look before skulking off into the depths of the mythology section and disappearing from view. Stiles didn’t care what he thought, chair sailing was fun, and the floor was lava, _he_ was the one being sensible if you thought about it.

The chair came to a gradual stop about 5 meters from the desk and he frowned. Leaning forward, Stiles stretched out his arms as far as they would go, grunting a little at the effort, but he still couldn’t manage to cover the distance. Huffing back in his seat, he considered his options. Of course, he could always get up and wheel his chair to the desk, but that was boring, and Stiles didn’t want to do boring. He guessed he could always put his feet on the ground and pull himself to his destination that way but what with the floor being lava that was asking quite a big sacrifice of Stiles. He _liked_ his feet. Eventually he came to the conclusion that there was really only one thing for it. Gripping the base of his wheely chair, Stiles placed his feet against the root of the legs and pushed all of his momentum up and forwards and imagined himself sailing through the air towards his destination. What he managed was a small, underwhelming jump towards the desk. But hey, progress was progress. It beat losing his feet to lava anyhow.

It was slow and tiring work, but he was determined to make it to the desk and nothing was going to stop him. He was a conqueror, a winner. He was Stiles Stilinski for god’s sake. And Stiles Stilinski _never_ gave up. _Never_.

His face was pulled tight in concentration, his tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t noticed the attention he had attracted from around the room, the glares and curious eyes following his slow, noisy progress across the library carpet. In fact he was so focused that he didn’t even notice the figure heading straight for him, frown fixed in place, and eyebrows pulled in a sharp V as he took in Stiles’ antics.

A large hand clamped down on the back of Stiles’ chair just as he was about to complete another jump, sending the boy crashing down onto the badly cushioned seat with an audible ‘oomph’. Before he could swivel the seat around to scowl at the owner of the hand and ask them what their deal was, Stiles felt the ground beneath him move as his chair was abruptly shoved forward. He flailed as his instincts tried to bring his arms up to protect himself from smashing into the desk, but he had a hard time coordinating his limbs and only just managed to get a hand between him and the desk before he made contact. The momentum sent him smashing forward, crushing his fingers between his body and the wood and disrupting the piles of books stacked high all over the cluttered desk. One of the taller piles wobbled when Stiles collided, and the top book slipped from its perch and glanced off of Stiles’ head as it fell. He yelped in pain, and cradled one hand to his chest rubbing the sore patch on his head with the other.

‘Dude!’ He whined as he turned to address the perpetrator, groaning when he found himself addressing Derek. Of _course_ it was Derek.

‘Seriously Derek? You playing ‘hurt the human’ again? Because I have to tell you, I’m not overly fond of that game.’

Derek’s scowl remained fixed on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, leather creaking as it was pulled taut across his shoulders.

‘You were attracting attention to yourself. And you looked like an idiot.’

‘Yeah, well, _you_ look like an abusive arsehole.’

There was a loud ‘shhhh’ from a couple of rows away, and both Stiles and Derek broke of the fierce staring contest they’d been having to look towards the source. Derek turned back to Stiles just in time to see him stick his tongue out in the general direction of the voice before pouting childishly. Derek shook his head and glanced around again. Out of the corner of his eye, Derek could just about make out the librarian craning her neck at the front desk, trying to work out who was making all the noise. He stepped towards Stiles, attempting to get out of her line of vision, her piercing gaze strangely unsettling. He startled slightly as Stiles sneezed, the sound loud and sudden, and the ‘shhhh’ rang out again. Both of them looked towards the sound again, but this time Stiles didn’t pout or stick his tongue out, this time Stiles stood up from his chair, face determined, cupped his hands round his mouth and shouted dramatically,

‘Never! I shall _never_ be silenced. Many have tried, many have failed. I-’

Derek strode forward and clapped a hand over Stiles’ mouth muffling his words until the boy gave up trying to speak or struggle, and instead just glared at Derek.

‘For god’s sake Stiles, you are going to get us kicked out. Just shut up.’ He hissed, his eyes flicking back to the librarian once more to check she wasn’t onto them. He gasped and retracted his hand in disgust as he felt Stiles push his tongue against his palm, tracing small circles against the skin until he was free to speak once more. When the hand was gone, Stiles drew the back of his own across his mouth to clear the spittle, and followed Derek’s eye line in curiosity.

‘Aww come on Derek, you could definitely take her.’

Derek scowled, jaw clenching beneath his skin.

‘She’s an eighty year old woman Stiles, _you_ could take her.’

The incredulity on Stiles’ face almost coaxed a smile from Derek but he pushed it down before it could manifest itself on his face, he wasn’t ready to let Stiles win.

‘Oh come on Sourwolf. We both know I could take _you_ down easily. You’re all bark and no bite.’

Derek bared his teeth, eyes flashing red as he leant so far into Stiles’ personal space that the boy toppled back down onto his seat. He laid a hand on the back of the chair, caging Stiles against it as he hissed out a response, his voice quiet and deadly.

‘You know as well as I do Stiles, that if I wanted to, I could rip your throat out with-’

‘-Yeah, yeah. With your teeth. You really need a new threat, I’m starting to doubt the sincerity of this one.’ Stiles stared back defiantly, refusing to be intimidated by a pair of tacky red eyes. He squeaked in surprise as Derek suddenly pulled away and spun his chair around and tucked him under the desk. He watched as the wolf prowled around to the other side and snatched a chair from a nearby table, before seating himself opposite Stiles.

‘Enough of being a smart ass. Why don’t you use your brain for something useful for a change and work out what to do about the Sylph, I want them off of my territory as soon as possible.’

Stiles muttered something under his breath, but Derek decided to take the high road and ignore it, watching Stiles pull books out of the piles and shove them towards Derek. When he didn’t make a move to take them, Stiles huffed and fixed him with as deadly a look as he could muster.

‘By insulting me, harming me, and sneaking up on me, you volunteered yourself to help. If you think about it, you only have yourself to blame. So start flicking through those and jot down anything you find of interest. The Sylph are fairly rarely documented so they won’t be in every book, but just keep going till you find a reference, then chase it down. Capiche?’

Derek’s face twisted in a snarl.

‘What? Don’t tell me you can’t read, Derek.’ Stiles teased, unfazed by the baring of teeth in his general direction which probably wasn’t a positive statement about his mental health. He _did_ startle slightly when the teeth snapped together in a warning, but he just ignored it and carried on looking through the index of the book he’d picked, trailing his index finger down the smooth surface of the page, and refused to acknowledge Derek’s anger. He was like a child, acknowledging it would only encourage it.

‘You can’t give me orders Stiles. I’m the Alpha. I’m in charge.’

Stiles rolled his eyes and finally looked up. He smiled mockingly.

‘That might work with your furry little betas, but I’m 100% human Derek, I don’t play by those rules. I’m rule free, and liking it. So I can order you around as much as I want and you can’t do anything about it, unless you actually decide to harm me which would be counterproductive considering the amount of times you’ve saved my ass, and also kind of stupid because my dad’s a sheriff with guns and there are human hugging hunters around just waiting for an excuse to mount you on their walls. So basically I can do what I want, and you can’t stop me.’

To punctuate his statement, Stiles pushed his foot forwards under the table and hooked it around the lever on Derek’s chair. Pulling down, he watched as Derek slowly sank down in his seat, eyes wide as he tried to work out why his seat was deflating under him. Stiles’ laugh must have alerted Derek to his involvement as the wolf turned on him, pushing up from the chair and coming around the table to advance on Stiles. His eyes were dark and Stiles was suddenly worried that he had pushed Derek too far, and that he was actually going to kill Stiles this time despite the witnesses.

He scrambled up from his seat and backed away from the advancing werewolf, hands raised in surrender. He felt his back hit a bookshelf and shivered as Derek grinned ferally, knowing that his prey was cornered. Doing the only thing he could think of Stiles groped the bookcase behind him and pulled out the first book he could. Without stopping to think beyond ‘I don’t want to die’, he launched the book straight at Derek. It hit him with a thump in the centre of the chest, and both of them froze, staring at the book, now lying on the floor beside Derek’s foot. Slowly Derek turned to look back at Stiles, fury clear on his face, but there was an underlying hint of amusement that made Stiles realise that Derek was enjoying this more than he was letting on, he was enjoying the play hunt. And he wasn’t sure if that was more adorable or creepy so Stiles reloaded and tossed another book at Derek’s chest with the war cry,

‘Back, back, stay back you mangy cur.’

One of Derek’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.

‘Mangy cur? Really?’

‘Have you seen yourself? Mangy doesn’t even begin to cover it. You still have blood on your shirt dude.’

Derek looked down at his shirt and Stiles used the opportunity to launch another book at Derek’s head, cheering when it met its target, but he didn’t have time to grab another weapon before Derek was on him, pinning him to the shelf and grinning in triumph, as if he were a kid who had won some sort of prize. Before Stiles could open his mouth to query the strange look, an outraged cry split the quiet.

‘My _books_. You beasts, what did you do to them? Out! Out right now, both of you.’

Stiles and Derek turned to see the elderly librarian hobbling after them, waving a cane in their direction. Making a decision to flee, Stiles ducked out from under Derek’s arm and made a break for their desk to collect his bag and notes. When he turned around he saw that the librarian had reached Derek and was alternating between waving her finger in his face and prodding him in the chest with it, chastising him for his behaviour and awful treatment of books, and strangely enough Derek seemed to cower under the force of her anger, completely at a loss of what to do with the situation.

Chuckling under his breath, Stiles shouldered his bag and walked towards them, latching onto Derek’s sleeve when he was close enough and pulling him away with him, away from the shrill cries of the elderly librarian who ‘hadn’t finished with them yet’. Derek flinched minutely and pushed Stiles to go faster.

‘Ooh look, the big bad Alpha, subdued by the 80 year old librarian. I guess I was wrong, you couldn’t take her after all. You’re useless, you know that?’

He smacked Derek’s arm when he growled at him, but continued to lead him from the building and into the sunshine. His stomach rumbled abruptly.

‘Alright, for getting us kicked out, because I maintain it was your fault, you’re treating me to lunch. Follow me, you better have your wallet, I’m starving.’

Derek didn’t object, just let himself be dragged away, cursing the day he ever met Stiles Stilinski.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 is coming soon complete with lunch date and awkward flirting. I hope you liked it.


End file.
